"Sure. Or I wouldn't be here. Sit down. I'll not bite ye."
The lawyer continued to stand.
"I've come to tell you that I'm a dammed fool, Mr. Farnum," the
boss grinned.
James bowed slightly. He did not know what was coming, but he had
no intention of committing himself to anything as yet.
"In ever lettin' youse get away from me. I mistook yez for a kid
glove."
Big Tim gazed with palpable admiration at the cleancut figure, at
the square cleft chin in the strong handsome face. It was his
opinion this young man would go far, and that every step of the
way would be in the interests of James K. Farnum. Shrewdly he
guessed that the way to pierce that impassive front was through an
appeal to vanity and to selfinterest.
James waited, alert and expressionless, but O'Brien, having made
his apology, puffed in silence.
"I think you suggested some business that brought you," James
reminded him.
"You've got in you the makings of a big man. Nothing on the coast
to touch youse, Mr. Farnum. And I didn't see it. I was sore on
your name. That was what was bitin' me. It's sure on Big Tim this
time."
None of the triumph that flooded Farnum reached the surface.
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